


Aftermath

by pennydrabbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, One Shot, Other, Romance, imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydrabbles/pseuds/pennydrabbles
Summary: Prompt: “Don’t make me laugh! I’m mad at you!”
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 29





	Aftermath

“You left me behind,” I said.

Dean sat on the edge of the bathtub as I stood in front of him. His shoulder was a wrecked, bloody mess from a vampire bite. I gave a merciless yank on the needle and thread, pulling the stitches snug.

“Easy, babe,” he hissed through his teeth. “I said I was sorry.”

I pointed at him. “You don’t get to talk.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “So I can’t defend myself?”

I scowled down at him. He looked up at me with a slow, pained blink. His skin had taken on a disturbing shade of gray from so much blood loss. He had to be in agony but he was barely making any noise as I took out my frustration on him with a none-too-gentle hand.

“That’s what you get for pulling the dictator card and locking me in my damn room like I’m a child. If it was up to you, I’d never go hunting again.”

Dean sighed and bowed his head. He brought his hands up, cradling my hips in his palms. He guided me between his knees and leaned forward, resting his forehead against my stomach.

“You’re damn right,” he whispered, his voice rough and quiet.

I blew out a breath, my indignation melting at the sight of him.

“Dean,” I said, softer this time. “You can’t protect me forever.”

“I can try.”

“No, honey, that won’t work and you know it.” I pulled back and took Dean’s chin in my hand, tilting his head up to look at me. “You need to fight alongside me. Not hide me. Otherwise, stuff like this happens.”

“I handled it.”

“Barely.”

Dean studied me for a moment. Then a gleam came into his eyes, playful and coy as his hands slid down to cup the back of my thighs.

“Coming home to some nurse and patient roleplay is kinda fun though,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes and pressed an alcohol-soaked pad of gauze to Dean’s shoulder. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Son of a _bitch_ , baby, that _hurts_.”

“Then don’t make me laugh! I’m still mad at you!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Geez.”

I cut the thread and gathered the medical supplies scattered on the lip of the tub, spread across the sink’s counter. As I furiously scrubbed my hands clean, Dean rose and came to stand behind me. He slipped an arm around my waist, tucking his nose into the curve of my neck and shoulder.

I closed my eyes and tipped my head back against the solid expanse of his chest. It felt so _good_ to have him wrapped around me again after hours of worrying if he was alive or dead.

“Any idea how long you plan to be mad at me for?” he said softly.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I replied, all fatigue and no heat to my voice. 

Dean nodded and pressed a chaste, sweet kiss of apology to the side of my neck, warm and lingering.

“Does that speed things up a little?” he said.

I bit the inside of my cheek to hide a smile. 

“Maybe.”


End file.
